GrahamCrackers

Friday, April 21, 2017

Chasing waterfalls along the upper San Diego River. It was
slow going with bushwhacking, water crossings, boulder scrambling, and poison
oak in abundance. The reward was relaxing in a pool at the base of a 50 foot
waterfall.

The San Diego River has always held a special place in my
heart. Many think of it as a stagnant and polluted watercourse running through
town, but it's upper reaches offer a truly remote wilderness adventure.

"Turn down-canyon, and at 0.5 mile arrive at the first
falls, a set of two, each about 50 feet high. To get by, you'll probably need
to traverse through brush and over tilted rock slabs on the right (west) side.
If you don't like this dicey maneuver, go no further and turn back. You will
encounter nothing but long stretches of boulder hopping, and occasional rock
climbing ahead." -Jerry Schad

Across the road from a sprawling strip mall in Rancho San
Diego lies a hidden gem of San Diego Hiking. The San Diego National Wildlife
Refuge encompasses the majority of San Miguel Mountain (aka Mount Miguel, Mount
San Miguel, etc) and surrounding areas. The Sweetwater River runs along the
northwestern edge of the Refuge which provides riparian as well as coastal
scrub habitat for a number of threatened and endangered species. This is a hike
that provides a surprising amount of quiet solitude considering how close it is
to civilization.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Whale Peak, at 5349 ft elevation, is one of the more popular
summits in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. I took the north approach from
Pinyon Mountain Road, making my way over and around several rocky summits,
gentle valleys, and high desert vegetation. The views, of course, are
phenomenal. I also had the pleasure of meeting a couple other hikers that I
follow on social media. Small world!

Shelter Island (peninsula would be more accurate) was built
up from San Diego Bay in the 1930's and 40's. There's a fishing pier and a
popular launching ramp for boats, along with a few restaurants, hotels,
marinas, and one of the best bay front walking paths. Sunrise or sunset is a fine
time to catch a stroll here, with great views of San Diego's skyscrapers just a
few miles west.

Once known as the “Broadway of America,” Highway 80 was the
first coast-to-coast highway in the U.S. Locally it was built in stages,
starting in 1917. In 1972, the roadway was officially decommissioned from Texas
to California following completion of Interstate 8. Vestiges remain, including
well-preserved sections in East County that have sparked interest among
nostalgia buffs.

This is the first section of US 80 east of San Diego in
which the original concrete remains exposed, most of which is in pristine condition.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Standing atop one of the highest points along the Fish Creek
Mountains at Fish Benchmark, elevation 2334 feet, overlooking Ocotillo Wells,
San Sebastián Marsh, and the Salton Sea. This was just a few miles east of the
SoCal Desert Rendezvous base camp.

This one left me bruised and bloodied. From the summit I
made a beeline to the desert floor, descending a near vertical 1000 foot dry
waterfall, negotiating loose scree, car-sized boulders, and catclaw. Took a
pretty hard fall on the way down. Next time I explore this area, I probably
shouldn't go alone.

Bighorn sheep carcass tucked away in this remote wilderness.

From the desert floor, the Fish Creek Mountains resemble a
plateau rising as a great wall; only a few dramatic peaks appear from a
distance. In truth, the mountains are a rugged land of numerous jagged ridges
and peaks standing above twisting canyons and small, hidden valleys--a pristine
desert mountain land worthy of a Wilderness adventure. Steep slopes often
contain limestone outcroppings that have resisted erosion, and, as a result,
rainstorms have created narrow chutes that swirl with runoff. Shielded from
intense sunlight and its evaporative powers, pools have formed at the base of
these chutes, supplying wildlife with precious water. A portion of the
shoreline of ancient Lake Cahuilla, a lake that receded more than 500 years
ago, remains visible within the Wilderness. Immediately to the south and west
lies Anza-Borrego Desert State Park.

Few visitors to the Colorado Desert realize that at one time
an extension of the Gulf of California reached northward nearly to San Gorgonio
Pass and that marine waters lapped at the outskirts of present-day Palm
Springs. Nor do they know that many thousands of years later, that same huge
basin, which is called the Salton Sink, was filled with a fresh water lake. And
after many more years, that this lake vanished and that in 1905, the Salton Sea
was created in its place by man’s own tampering with Nature in an endeavor to
get badly needed irrigation waters.

You can find millions upon millions of tiny fresh-water
shells in many places along the old beach line. So numerous are these that they
appear at first glance to be stretches of sand. Their presence gave the valley
at the north end of the sink its colorful name: Coachella Valley. The word
Coachella is merely a misspelling of the word Conchella, meaning Little Shells.

Many of the rocks along the ancient shoreline display a
peculiar substance called travertine, which is a calcareous type of sinter,
forming coral-like encrustations upon rocks. It is made up of chemically
precipitated calcium carbonate (lime) from fresh waters containing an excess of
that mineral in solution. This deposition is brought about by the action of
microscopic plant algae in the water, algae which live only in fresh water. In
some places this lime encrustation is several inches thick, and looks very much
like gray coral.

One of my most spectacular and exhausting backpacking trips
in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park- Villager & Rabbit Peaks along the Santa
Rosa Ridge. Here I am watching the sunset over the Cuyamaca Mountains, Borrego
Springs, and Clark Dry Lake.

Sunrise above the Salon Sea along the Santa Rosa Ridge, on
my way to Rabbit Peak from Villager Peak.

Rabbit Peak selfie with Toro Peak and snow-capped San
Jacinto in the distance. This remote "Island In the Sky" lies along
the southeast end of the Santa Rosa Range of Riverside county in Southern
California. The summit features views along the Santa Rosa Range to the northwest,
to the Anza-Borrego Desert State Park to the south, and the Coachella Valley
and Salton Sea to the east. There is no higher peak further south in
California, so the views in that direction can span to the Mexican border and
into Arizona on a clear day. A Cauhilla Indian legend tells of Suic, a white
and red spotted rabbit which dwells on this peak. When he appears, the mountain
trembles, and there is a rumbling noise. I didn't see any rabbits, but there
were a few mountain lion tracks.

Summit register atop Rabbit Peak, with Toro Peak in the background.

The pinyon pine forest atop Rabbit Peak stands in stark contrast to most of the nearby terrain. The trees yield edible pinyon nuts, which were a staple of the Native Americans, and are still widely eaten as a snack in New Mexican cuisine. Harvesting techniques of the prehistoric Indians are still being used to today to collect the pinyon seeds for personal use or for commercialization. The pinyon nut or seed is high in fats and calories.

Celebrating my second summit of Villager Peak.

The trail here skirts the edge of a spectacular drop off,
3000 feet straight down to the desert floor.

My body is still feeling the burn. This trek takes a
considerable amount of time and effort to complete. When I do this again, I'll
get an earlier start on the second day so I'll be able to spend more time atop
Rabbit Peak. I carried 7 liters of water with me on the first day and had 3
more cached on Villager from a previous hike. It was enough to get me thorough
the weekend. I'm also thinking I'll leave the tent behind and just cowboy camp
with a bivy sack. I'm still on a high from this adventure!

"From the 8716 foot summit of Toro Peak in Riverside
County, the main crest of the Santa Rosa Mountains undulates southeast past
Rabbit and Villager Peaks, then drops steadily to the desert floor at the edge
of the Borrego Badlands. The northern summits of the Santa Rosa Mountains are
high enough to support a variety of conifers, but the south half of the range-
San Diego County's share- is quite desolate. The southern Santa Rosas are
rugged, almost lacking in sources of water, virtually trail-less, seldom
visited, and (to the ill-prepared hiker) unforgiving. Yet it's here, more than
any other place within the county, that you can really get away from it all.
Perched on some high and dry peak, you can gaze out over hundreds of square
miles of mountains and desert with a feeling that you own it all." -Jerry
Schad